


Lacerated Heart

by JinxedAmbitions



Series: AK One Shots [9]
Category: Animal Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Blood, Concussions, Drug Use, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Stitches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-17 06:47:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15455655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JinxedAmbitions/pseuds/JinxedAmbitions
Summary: Deran finds himself once again awkwardly standing, well sitting because the room keeps spinning, between Adrian and Linc.  If he thought this was an uncomfortable situation before, it isn't any better with a head wound.  Deran can't even lie to himself and pretend he has any control over the situation.  Adrian his worried out of his mind and making very little secret of his feelings, and Linc...well, Linc is as steady as ever.Based on the prompt: Can we get a hurt Deran and a worried mess Adrian and then Linc is there treating Deran and realizing what they have is deep?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I almost trashed this fic. I wrote this chapter of it between when Broke from the Box and Low Man aired, and when Low Man aired, it kinda threw a wrench in what happened in the fic, but I gave it a couple weeks and deleted the parts that referenced this being Adrian and Linc's first awkward meeting, and we're gonna roll with it. It probably doesn't match perfectly with the current canon, and will likely match even less come next Tuesday, but then again it's a fic, so it doesn't really have to does it?
> 
> This is based on the prompt: Can we get a hurt Deran and a worried mess Adrian and then Linc is there treating Deran and realizing what they’ve is deep?

“Would you hold still?” Linc asked, holding a piece of gauze and attempting to clean some of the blood off of Deran’s face.

“Just stitch me up and get it over with,” Deran insisted, wiggling around as blood ran down his forehead and into his eye.

“Craig was a better patient than you are,” Linc remarked calmly, like Deran’s anxious movements didn’t actually bother him at all.

“Craig was high as fuck. He probably couldn’t even feel you put his shoulder back in place.”

Linc shook his head, smiling as he blotted away the worst of the blood.  The cut on Deran’s head was still bleeding, though it had slowed significantly from when Craig and Linc had dragged him out of the surf.  He’d gotten his bell rung pretty good, getting knocked half senseless as the fin sliced across his skull. 

“That asshole had no right cutting in on my ride,” Deran complained, remembering the other rider giving him a shove which had sent the rider unbalanced, and the next thing Deran knew, their board was shooting up at him and nearly taking off his head, as well as a chunk out of his shoulder.

“You’re lucky that thing didn’t take off half your face,” Linc told him calmly, wiping the blood away from Deran’s left eye.  His touch was gentle though purposeful. He wasn’t babying Deran, but he certainly wasn’t reaching Pope levels of minimal bedside manner.

“Assholes think they can—ow, fuck!”

Linc was really smiling this time as he cleaned away the blood that was beginning to crust over in his hair.  It was not pleasant, and Deran didn’t know why he’d turned down Linc’s offer for something to dull the pain. Probably some stupid idea that he had to impress Linc with his legendary pain tolerance.  It wasn’t legendary at all. He was just usually too high to care too much when his brothers patched him up.

“You sure you don’t want anything?  I haven’t even started suturing you up yet,” Linc offered again as he dropped a piece of gauze, saturated with Deran’s blood, into the wastebasket between them.

“I’m fine,” Deran said through gritted teeth as Linc gently probed around the injury.  

“I still think you should go to the hospital.  You’ve lost a lot of blood and the gash on your shoulder is fairly deep...not to mention the concussion,” Linc said, frowning as he flushed the head wound.  “You should get a round of antibiotics too…”

“I’ll be fine.  I can get my hands on antibiotics.  Just stitch me up, or Pope can do it,” Deran told him, feeling more than a little lightheaded between the blood loss and the concussion.

“I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear that,” Linc said, cupping Deran’s chin in his hand and tipping it up to face him.  He didn’t kiss Deran, likely because Deran was covered in blood, snot, and tears from getting hit with a board then face-planting into the sand after insisting he could stand on his own.  

It was not Deran’s finest moment, but Linc was taking it in stride like he did with all of Deran’s other hangups and quirks.  Linc did look into his eyes with that smile he always wore for Deran, and it might as well have been a kiss.

“Just get this done with.  I have things to do,” Deran told him.  

Linc snorted as he set things out on the top of the bar.  It probably wasn’t the best place to get himself stitched up, but Deran wasn’t about to lie in bed like an invalid while Linc closed the wound.  He had more pride than that.

“Sorry our surf got cut short,” Deran apologized as Linc began to carefully suture the skin just above his temple.  

“You probably saved me some embarrassment,” Linc brushed it off.  Deran couldn’t help noticing how steady his hands were as he worked.

“You think it’ll scar?” 

“You really have a thing for scars, don’t you?” Linc teased.  Even his smile was relaxed when Deran felt like he might actually come out of his own skin if he had to sit still much longer.  

“Shut up.”  Deran hoped the blood still covering his face would hide any blush rising to his cheeks.

“I’m fairly decent at this, so hopefully the scaring will be faint,” Linc said, pausing a moment to study his work.  He nodded to himself then finished off the last few sutures.

Deran was still searching for how to respond when the door of the bar was thrown open.  Deran was about to jump to his feet when a familiar voice cut through the air.

“Are you fucking crazy?” Adrian shouted, storming into the bar with Craig shuffling behind him, trying to calm him down.  “I haven’t slept in 36 hours and instead of you picking me up at the airport, Craig is there saying you got your face rearranged because you can’t stop picking fights in the water.”

“Yo man, what did I say about being chill?” Craig asked, trying to get a hold of Adrian’s shoulder but getting shrugged off instead.

Adrian was not slowed by the fact that Deran was currently having himself stitched back together or by Craig’s insistence that he chill out.  He marched right into Deran’s space, glaring at him through bloodshot eyes.

“I was worried out of my goddamn mind,” Adrian told him, cupping Deran’s face with his bare hands, showing little concern for the blood still covering Deran.  He ran his thumbs over Deran’s cheeks as he tipped Deran’s head back and examined the damage. “This could’ve easily taken off your nose or your eye. How many times have I told you to chill out?”

“You’re the one that needs to chill.  I’m fine,” Deran insisted, not bothering to pull out of Adrian’s grasp.  He wouldn’t get far, and Adrian’s touch was keeping the room from spinning.  Not to mention, it felt nice.

“Chill? Your head is split open, and your eyes are unfocused. What did a shark bite you shoulder because that looks awful?” Adrian asked, wiping at the blood that had dripped down Deran’s nose like risk of infectious diseases weren’t a thing.  With the number of times they’d bled on each other growing up, he wasn’t surprised, but Linc’s eyes were definitely a little wide.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Deran told him.

“That’s still pretty bad because you look like shit.  I told you…”

“I know.”

“Yeah, well it doesn’t seem to have sunk in yet.  So, did the hit to the head knock some sense into you, or are you going to pull this same shit next week?” Adrian asked sharply.

“Don’t you have anything to say?” Deran asked Linc, thinking he’d tell Adrian to take a step back and let him do his job.

“No, he’s covered just about all of it,” Linc said, sitting back and studying their interaction. He didn’t look as relaxed as he did before.  In fact, despite his condition, Deran could easily read the tension in his expression.

“Just take care of yourself. Who’s going to  _ sponsor  _ me if you get yourself killed?” Adrian asked, deflating as he ran his fingertips over Deran’s jawline, scratching lightly at his beard.  Deran would not admit how nice that felt, but Adrian already knew.

“I’m fine,” Deran tried to assure him, holding his gaze and forgetting they weren’t alone in the room.  

“Don’t scare me like that,” Adrian whispered, leaning close.  His eyelashes brushed his cheeks as his eyes closed briefly, and it was hypnotizing. 

“If Craig knew how to keep his mouth shut, you wouldn’t have even known,” Deran retorted quietly, letting Adrian reel him in.

“Pretty sure I would’ve noticed Craig wasn’t you, either way,” Adrian whispered back.

Craig cleared his throat loudly, and Deran jerked back from where Adrian was slowly leaning in to kiss him.  “Dude, you’re still bleeding all over yourself,” Craig told him, tipping his head toward Linc who was still watching them calmly.

“Sorry,” Deran said, ducking his head and remembering himself while also feeling his body begin to sway.

“You should really sit somewhere that isn’t a barstool,” Linc said at the same time that Adrian wrapped an arm around the small of Deran’s back and held him steady.

“Just get this done, then I can go to sleep,” Deran complained.  That earned him two unimpressed looks, and it wasn’t even the concussion making him see double.  He was fucked.

“Not with that concussion, sorry,” Linc told him, reaching forward and beginning to flush the shoulder wound.  

Deran made a noise of complaint, but he didn’t say anything.  Adrian was pretty much holding him up while Linc got back to work, cleaning the wound then suturing his shoulder back together.  

Craig had gone around the otherside of the bar and helped himself to a double shot of tequila and was giving Deran a  _ look _ .  Deran was glad he wasn’t the only one feeling how awkward this had become.

Adrian’s hand was running up and down Deran’s spine, and it was making his body tingle despite how shitty he was feeling.  And Linc was giving him all of that laser focus he had, and it was making Deran even more lightheaded than he already was. 

Linc finished the last suture and finished cleaning the blood off of Deran’s face now that the bleeding had stopped.  His chest and back were a lost cause that only a shower was going to fix, but it felt good to have a clean face. “You’re good.  Hopefully, it won’t scar badly,” he said, running his thumb over Deran’s temple just beneath the worst of the wound.

“Whatever,” Deran said, pulling away from both men and grabbing the shot Craig had just poured himself.  Before anyone could say anything, he knocked back the shot and ignored the way the room swam around him. He would not recommend taking a surfboard to the head.

“Maybe you should slow down,” Craig told him, looking at Deran then at the two concerned men on either side of him.

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Yeah, you look real good,” Craig retorted, getting himself a new shot glass and pouring a shot to make up for the one Deran snatched.

“I left all of my stuff in the Scout.  I’m should drop it at the apartment, but I’ll be back,” Adrian told Deran once Linc was putting his supplies back in his bag.  Adrian had seemed to forget his self-imposed scarcity while Deran was seeing Linc. In fact, his tone seemed to dare anyone to challenge his right to be right there.

“You said you haven’t slept.  Get some rest. I’ll be fine,” Deran told him quietly.  For once, he wasn’t trying to push Adrian away, but Adrian didn’t look much better than he did, and a significant part of Deran didn’t want Adrian snorting a line of Craig’s coke in order to be semi-functional, another part of Deran worried that he already had.

“I’ve been worried about you.  Been hearing things…” Adrian didn’t finish the sentence, glancing over at Linc who was at least pretending to be preoccupied with his bag.

“You’ve been hearing things?  Halfway around the world?” Deran asked, leaning against the bar as he looked into Adrian’s eyes.  It could be the sleep deprivation, but he looked scattered.

“I wasn’t competing 24/7.  I still talk to the guys,” Adrian said wringing his fingers.

“We’ve got it under control.  You shouldn’t worry.”

“Right.  Well, I’ll get out of your hair then,” Adrian told him, reaching out and squeezing Deran’s bicep. Even with a concussion, Deran could feel how awkward it was.

“You high?” Deran whispered as Adrian invaded his space.

“I’m just tired,” Adrian insisted too quickly.  In fact, he jerked back shoving his hands into his pockets.

“How much did he give you?” Deran asked, pulling Adrian back in.

“Just a line.  I—”

“It’s fine. Look, I’m sorry.  My head hurts, and I’m covered in my own blood.  Let me get cleaned up, and you can tell me how things went while I’m not allowed to sleep,” Deran told him.  Ducking his head and holding Adrian’s eye contact.

Adrian smiled more naturally this time.  “You must have been hit pretty hard if you want to hear about how I flamed out of my most recent competition.”

“You didn’t.  Stop being a drama queen.”

“You watch?” Adrian asked, running his thumb over Deran’s arm.  He was much more relaxed when his hands were touching Deran. They needed something to do when Adrian was amped up.

“I may have been up.”

“You may have…”  Adrian’s words trailed off as he leaned in, closing his eyes as he got close and pressed his head to Deran’s shoulder.  Deran let him. It was awkward as hell, knowing Linc was a few feet away, and he probably deserved a second knock to the head.  He just couldn’t push Adrian away. “I’ll be back once everything is settled. Don’t get into anymore trouble, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah.  Get out of here,” Deran said, giving Adrian a playful shove which earned him a smile. 

“Don’t fall over,” Adrian teased him when Deran stumbled because his own shove put him off balance.  He grasped Deran’s shoulders and pushed him back down onto the stool. “This seems more your speed right now.”

Deran shook his head and gave Adrian the finger as Adrian took Craig’s keys from him and left the bar.

“Right, so...I’m gonna go,” Craig said, taking the bottle of tequila and leaving his shot glass behind.  

Deran dropped his chin to his chest when it was just him and Linc left in awkward silence.

“I have a shift starting in a little while…”

“I’m sorry about that,” Deran told him, looking down at his bare chest which was still covered in blood.  He was trying to do right by Linc, but it never seemed to turn out as he hoped. 

“How long have you two been together?”

Deran sighed, bringing his hand up and rubbing his face, careful of his stitches.  “We’re not…”

“I’m not blind, Deran,” Linc said, sounding tired and fed up.

“And I’m not lying.  It’s never been like that,” Deran told him, getting frustrated himself.

“So what?  Friends with benefits?  Or are you seriously going to tell me that he came in here that worked up because you’re bros?  I’ve seen parents less worked up over their children in the ER than he was when he got here. Just be honest with me.”

Deran growled in frustration.  Craig had definitely warned him about this, but Deran hadn’t had a clue how to handle it.  He still didn’t know how to handle this which was a distinct problem, seeing as he was elbow deep in it.

“I don’t know what we are, okay?  I’ve known him forever. He’s been my best friend  _ forever _ . I don’t know when that turned into something or even what it turned into.  Adrian’s just Adrian whether we’re getting high, surfing, or fucking. We’ve just always acted that way about each other,” Deran explained, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked anywhere but at Linc.

“Right…” 

“I didn’t...it’s not…” Deran balled his fist and pounded it against the bar.  

“You speak a different language when he’s around, you know that?” Linc asked, folding his arms over his chest.

“What?”

“Like shorthand, but it only makes sense to the two of you.  It’s like the conversation I’m hearing isn’t the one you two are having.  I thought I was going crazy for a second, but Craig was in the same boat,” Linc said, shrugging.

Deran felt self conscious at Linc’s scrutiny.  He’d never given much thought to how they communicated before.  They just did what they always did. Sometimes they touched. Sometimes they yelled.  They usually got in each others space…

“It’s just because we’ve been friends a long time.”

“Deran, I don’t make a habit of being jealous.  But honestly, I spent weeks trying, with limited success, to get you to be open with me, and he comes in here for ten minutes and has you laid bare.  So whatever you want to call it, it’s pretty hard to ignore.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“I am too,” Linc said, glancing down at his watch.  “I have to get to work. Keep the stitches clean, and stay out of the water for a few days.  And have someone check on you periodically if you sleep for any length of time. I’ll call you in a week to take them out...And I might take it easy on any sexual activities.  I doubt the stitches or the concussion are going to be able to hold up the way you do it,” Linc said, picking up his bag and heading for the door.

“Thanks.”  Deran tried not to blush even though the backhanded compliment did plenty to stroke his pride.

“No problem...but maybe listen to Adrian and stop picking fights,” Linc said before walking out the door.

Deran let his head tip back and looked up at the ceiling until the room began to spin, and he closed his eyes.  That was definitely not how he wanted things to go.

“Dude, that was painful to listen to,” Craig said, appearing behind the half wall that separated the bar from the kitchen.  “What did I tell you? Shoulda been honest.”

“I’m not dealing with this right now,” Deran said, pushing himself to his feet and nearly staggering right back onto the stool.  There was a good chance he was going to be sick, so he slowly made his way toward the restroom, ignoring his body’s protests as best he could.  It was going to be a long day.


	2. Chapter 2

Deran was seated on the sticky floor of the restroom when Adrian found him. He looked worse than he had before, and Deran suspected it wasn’t just the effects of the concussion that was making him think that. His shoulders held none of the stubborn determination they had earlier, and his hair looked like he’d been tugging at it constantly.

“Craig said you were blowing chunks,” Adrian said, clearly using Craig’s exact words.  He carefully pushed the stall door open, so it wouldn’t hit Deran.

“Not really, just feel like I might,” Deran corrected him, scooting over to make room for Adrian to sit with him.  The board must have hit him pretty hard, but he didn’t have the energy to pretend he wasn’t currently a mess. He couldn’t even think up a lie, convincing or otherwise, if he wanted to at the moment.  Things were too fuzzy. Made him almost believe Adrian had a right to worry.

“How about we go to your office, and you can keep the trash can by you?” Adrian suggested, wrinkling his nose at the bathroom floor.

Deran couldn’t blame him.  He was pretty sure he was sitting in someone else’s piss, despite having cleaned the restrooms the previous night. It wasn’t that he wanted to be sitting on the floor.  He just hadn’t been able to keep his balance when he’d leaned over the toilet when he first came in. “Yeah, okay,” he agreed, reaching out to use the toilet to lever himself up.

Adrian didn’t bother to ask if he needed help, he simply gripped Deran’s upper arms and pulled him to his feet.  Deran put his arm out to steady himself against the wall and pushed Adrian out of the stall with the other.

“Did I fuck things up for you?” Adrian asked as they made their way to Deran’s office.

Deran didn’t say anything.  He just focused his energy on walking in a straight line.  If he spoke, he might blame Adrian for things that were completely his own fault.  He was too beat up to process what had happened, but he had a feeling he’d have regrets when his head settled down.

“You sure you don’t need to see an actual doctor?” Adrian asked as Deran stumbled over nothing then stumbled again when he actually knocked into the stool he’d been avoiding the first time.  Clearly, depth perception was on the list of things that had been completely fucked. Deran just wasn’t sure if it was because of the concussion or the blood loss...probably both.

“I’ll be fine.  Linc would have told me to go to the hospital if I needed to.”

“I’m pretty sure he did...a few times,” Adrian told him, wrapping his arm around Deran’s waist before Deran could take out any more of the bar’s furnishings.

“I’ll be okay.”

“Craig said he had some things to take care off…” Adrian mentioned when it became apparent that no one was left in the building but them.

“Probably ran out of coke,” Deran muttered, putting his palm to his forehead and willing away the headache he had.

“What actually happened?” Adrian asked, as he once again took hold of Deran’s arm as Deran lowered himself to the couch in his office.

“Nothing, just bad luck,” Deran said, leaning his head back against the cushion.

Adrian took a seat beside him, sinking into the abused cushions as well.  

“Can you grab the box on my desk?” Deran asked, pointing to the box he kept his weed and rolling papers in.

Adrian got up and retrieved it, but he didn’t hand it to Deran.  He kept it as he sat back down. Deran watched Adrian open it up and begin to roll a joint for them.  He was mesmerized by Adrian’s fingers as the pinched up the bud and sprinkled in carefully into the paper.  Deran drifted a little as he focused solely on Adrian’s long fingers as they worked methodically. Then he watched as Adrian lifted the joint to his lips and his tongue flicked out to seal the paper down.

Deran startled slightly when Adrian held a lit joint out to him.  He’d completely missed Adrian lighting it and taking the first hit.  Lifting unsteady fingers, Deran took the joint and placed it between his lips, inhaling slowly.

“Why haven’t you slept in a day and a half?” Deran asked, passing it back and leaning closer to Adrian.

“Just had a couple rough days.  Don’t worry about it,” Adrian told him.

Deran reached back, cupping the nape of Adrian’s neck and rubbing it gently.  “You want to worry about my head wound; I’ll worry about your sleeping habits.  Why haven’t you slept?” Deran told him as firmly as his heavy tongue could muster.

“It’s just hard, okay?”

“That’s not an answer,” Deran told him, massaging the nape of Adrian’s neck and giving him time.

“It’s exhausting.  Traveling, competing, being alone...I love surfing...it’s just…”

“Everything else,” Deran said, squeezing the back of Adrian’s neck comfortingly.

“Sometimes it’s harder knowing I’m coming home for a few days.  Knowing I’ll only just get a taste of this before I have to go again…” Adrian trailed off, taking a deep pull from the joint and leaving so much left unsaid.

Deran shook his head slowly.  He didn’t do this... _feelings_.  He certainly wasn’t equipped to handle it right now.

“I’m still going to be here, so is your sister and your friends.  You have a chance to do something you’ve dreamed of since we were kids.  Remember when we used to talk about what we’d do when we were on the tour together?”  Deran asked, leaning forward to press him forehead to Adrian’s.

“Yeah, and we’d talk about all the waves we wanted to surf all over the world.”

“You’re doing that for both of us now…”

“I’d rather do it with you,” Adrian admitted.  

“Me too…” Deran agreed.

Adrian yawned, pulling back enough to rub his blood shot eyes.

“You don’t have to keep me company.  You should get some sleep,” Deran said, changing the subject because neither of them really seemed prepared to deal with the implications of it.  Instead he let his fingers begin to slowly massage Adrian’s scalp again. “I’m not making it up the ladder, but you can lie down on the bed if you want.”

Adrian snorted as he glanced up at the mattress in the loft. “Still not a real bed, and I’d rather do this anyway,” Adrian assured him, lighting the joint again as he took another puff.

“Yeah, me too,” Deran said, leaning in and kissing Adrian before he could exhale the smoke from his lungs.  The kiss was slow and gentle as Deran cupped Adrian’s face, coaxing his lips open and taking in the smoke as Adrian expelled it.  Deran held it in as he continued to kiss Adrian. This had been one of their favorite activities when they were just beginning to explore whatever it was they had between them.  They’d find a secluded place and share a joint while they made out.

Adrian put the joint in the ashtray in front of the couch before cupping Deran’s face as well and slowly taking control.  “I was told sex is probably a bad idea,” Deran said, letting Adrian push him down onto his back.

“You’ve always been one to follow the rules.”

Deran snorted, letting Adrian kiss him hungrily.  “Concussion or not, I can still fuck you into the mattress.”

“Yeah, if you aren’t coordinated enough to walk across the bar, you’re definitely up for that,” Adrian agreed sarcastically, stroking Deran’s cheek as he slowly kissed down his jaw to his neck.

“You should probably ride me,” Deran said even as Adrian unbuckled his belt.

Deran reached up and tugged off Adrian’s shirt, but there wasn’t much else he could accomplish lying prone on the couch.  Adrian didn’t seem to need any help though, making quick work of both of their pants. Deran stroked himself as he watched Adrian walked over to where Deran stored lube and condoms.  Adrian wasn’t the least bit shy as he bent over the drawer to rummage through it.

Deran sucked in a quick breath as Adrian opened the bottle of lube and poured some onto his fingers.  He braced one hand on the desktop and reached behind himself with the other. Adrian was by no means an exhibitionist, but he worked himself open on full display for Deran.

“I’m going to come like this if you don’t hurry up,” Deran told him, still stroking his cock as Adrian buried two fingers in his own ass.

Adrian glanced over his shoulder and smiled.  “Maybe that’s the idea.”

“Shut up, and come over here.  You do it wrong anyway,” Deran told him, letting go of himself and motioning for Adrian to come to him.

Adrian grabbed the condom and lube and walked over to the couch before throwing his leg over Deran’s hips and straddling him.  Deran gripped Adrian’s hip with one hand and held the other up for Adrian, who poured some lube onto it.

Deran didn’t waste any time burying two fingers inside him.  He groaned as Adrian slowly began to ride them, bracing his hands on Deran’s chest.  Deran crooked his fingers, seeking out Adrian’s prostate before he became too impatient to get things moving.

Adrian’s back arched as Deran found what he was looking for, gently rubbing over it several times before pulling his fingers free.  Adrian panted, squeezing his eyes closed for a moment as Deran wiped his wet fingers on Adrian’s thigh. Sweat was already forming on Adrian’s skin, and Deran was certain he didn’t look much less affected.

Deran encouraged Adrian to rubbed himself against Deran’s thigh while Deran attempted to get the condom open.  It wasn’t nearly as easy as it should’ve been, but Deran wasn’t about to give up sex just because of a little concussion.  Nothing short of a coma was keeping him from getting his hands on Adrian.

“You’re going cross-eyed. Give me that,” Adrian told him, taking the foil packet from Deran’s fingers when several attempts to tear it failed.  “Are you sure you’re up for this?” Adrian asked softly, though he was already carefully rolling the condom down Deran’s length.

“I’m fine,” Deran assured him, gripping the base of his cock once Adrian had finished.  

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Adrian said, smiling as he reached up and brushed some of Deran’s hair away from his face.  His fingers were particularly careful close to his wound, and Deran could read the concern in his expression. Deran hated just how easy it was to see the sadness in Adrian’s eyes, and how he’d been the cause of it far too often.

Deran didn’t say anything as he stroked himself with slick fingers, waiting for Adrian to get into position.  It didn’t take him long to rise to his knees and position himself over Deran. Deran gritted his teeth as Adrian sank down onto him slowly, drawing it out.

“Come on,” Deran encouraged him, knowing Adrian could take him but was choosing to be unnecessarily cautious.

Adrian didn’t listen to him, continuing at his own pace until Deran finally broke.  He thrust his hips up, sighing as he felt Adrian easily take him. However, he only got a few good thrusts in before Adrian’s full weight was holding his hips in place and Adrian’s hands pinned Deran’s on either side of his head.  

“Your brain’s taken enough of a beating today, just hold still,” Adrian warned even as he began to ride Deran in earnest.  Adrian didn’t release his wrists, holding them tightly in place as he rose and fell in a steady rhythm.

His body was hypnotizing, or maybe it was just the combination of his concussion and the weed making him entirely mesmerized by Adrian’s movements.  

They rarely did it this way.  Deran was used to holding Adrian to his chest, seeing very little of him as he focused his energy on their pleasure. This was overwhelming in a different way, being able to see every move and expression Adrian made.  Adrian’s muscles moved and flexed as he brought himself up and down on Deran’s cock. Sweat formed on his chest and brow, drawing Deran’s eyes up to Adrian’s face. Adrian’s mouth was slightly opened, and his eyes were hooded.  

Adrian’s grip tightened on Deran’s wrists every time he brought his body down.  Usually, Deran would flip their position at this point and exert himself, but he let Adrian continue to have complete control.  He was beyond aroused, feeling the tight squeeze of Adrian’s body around him.

Adrian released Deran’s wrists, after guiding them to his hips.  Deran held him steady as Adrian pushed his pace further, changing the angle of his hips with each thrust.

Deran groaned as his whole body seemed alight with pleasure.  He could tell Adrian was feeling similarly as his hands now drifted freely over Deran’s chest and arms.  Adrian seemed to want to touch every inch of him as he sent them rushing toward release.

Adrian arched his back, groaning as he ground down on Deran, leaving  them both shaking. The world was swimming in the best way as Adrian’s blunt nails dug into Deran’s chest.

However, Deran could tell the exact moment that exhaustion won out over pleasure.  Adrian’s rhythm suddenly faltered as the muscles in his thighs spasmed. He let out frustrated gasp, and Deran practically had to catch him as he fell forward over Deran’s chest.

“And you were worried about me,” Deran said, wrapping his arms around Adrian and burying his fingers in Adrian’s sweaty hair.  

“Sorry,” Adrian muttered, sounding both frustrated and beyond exhausted.

Deran didn’t say anything as he began to rock his hips again.  Adrian groaned, but he didn’t fight with Deran about it. Instead, Adrian kissed Deran’s neck and chest, clutching at Deran’s arms as though to keep himself grounded.  Somehow, even completely bone tired, he managed to be careful of the injured to Deran’s shoulder.

It didn’t take long to build back up, despite the slower pace.  When the position became too awkward, Deran carefully slid out from beneath Adrian then slowly guided him onto his side, so he could spoon him from behind.  

“I was worried about you,” Adrian said as Deran slowly pressed back in.

“I’ve gotten hurt before,” Deran reminded him, rocking steadily without jarring his aching head.

“But when is your luck going to run out? I’m afraid one of these times I’m going to come back, and you’ll be in the hospital or worse...you’ll end up like Baz,” Adrian admitted, lacing his fingers with Deran as Deran wrapped his arm around him.

Deran grunted as he thrust harder, feeling Adrian’s whole body shudder.  “You worry too much.”

“Do I? Or will next time the fin take eye or instead of your shoulder it’ll catch your neck?  Will a job get you shot or break your bones?”

“Where’s all this coming from?” Deran asked, reaching down to stroke Adrian in time with his thrusts.  It wasn’t easy with the stitches in his shoulder. Every movement made it feel like he might tear them open again, and them Adrian would really worry.

“I don’t want to lose you, but it seems every time I come back you slip further away…”

Deran stopped thrusting and pushed himself up, so he could look at Adrian’s face.  “How high are you?” he asked, reaching down to cup Adrian’s face.

“High and sleep deprived.  Sorry.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“You don’t have to. It doesn’t mean I won’t lose you.”

Deran leaning in, pressing his forehead to Adrian’s shoulder even though it pulled at his stitches.

“The thing with Linc...I think it’s safe to say it’s over…”

“There’ll be others.  You—”

Deran squeezed his eyes closed.  He hated dealing with his emotions, and he hated talking about them even more.  “Not others, just you.” He used similar words to those he had the night he’d driven a wedge between them, but they held a different energy this time.  “We’ll make it work, and I won’t pick stupid fights, but I can’t change what I am.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to,” Adrian sighed, rolling onto his back and pulling Deran in for a kiss.

“Neither of us are ever getting off at this rate,” Deran complained against Adrian’s lips.  

Adrian laughed, and it sounded much lighter than anything Deran had heard in a while.  Adrian wrapped his legs around Deran’s hips and held Deran to his body.

Deran slipped back inside him, letting Adrian hold him steady as he used the last of his own energy to build a punishing rhythm.  Deran reached between their bodies and wrapped his fingers around Adrian’s cock, stroking him in time.

Both of them were close, and every thrust had Deran’s vision swimming with a mix of pleasure and pain.  “Just you,” me mumbled as he canted his hips to catch Adrian’s prostate on the next thrust.

Adrian cried out as he tipped over the edge.  Deran could feel his cock jerk between than before both of their stomachs became covered Adrian’s release.  His whole body shook, squeezing Deran and pulling him over the edge as well.

Deran collapsed on Adrian’s chest, panting rapidly as sweat cooled on both of their bodies.  It was disgusting, but he had no desire to move. Adrian stroked his hair while his other hand rubbed up and down Deran’s spine.  Deran could hear his heart beating rapidly.

Neither of them was in any condition to clean themselves or each other up.  So, Deran reached up and pulled one of the blankets hanging over the back of the couch down to cover them.  

“You keep me level,” Deran said, still too spent to lift his head from Adrian’s chest.

“No I don’t.  You do tons of stupid shit right in front of me, like jumping off the pier,” Adrian mumbled, words slurring with exhaustion.

Deran lifted his aching head just enough to nip Adrian’s nipple.  “Shut up,” he said playfully.

“I’m trying, but you keep talking.”

“Sorry, I’ll let you sleep. I’m sorry I worried you.”

“Set an alarm for a couple of hours because I’m not going to wake up to check on you if I fall asleep now,” Adrian told him.

“Where’d you toss my pants?” Deran asked, groping at the floor around the couch.

Adrian didn’t answer, and Deran had a feeling he’d only just managed to muster up that request before he gave in to exhaustion.  Somehow even on the brink of passing out from pushing himself to the edge, he still managed to worry about Deran.

Deran managed to get a hold of Adrian’s pants instead, and he pulled his phone out of the pocket.  He pressed the home button and entered the pin. “You should really think about changing that. You’ve used the same one since you were like sixteen,” Deran muttered as the lock screen rolled over to the home screen.  That had Deran pausing.

Adrian’s home screen was a picture of the two of them at a competition they’d entered ages ago.  They were both soaking wet and wearing their entry numbers pinned to their wetsuits. Deran’s hair was long and sticking out all over the place while Adrians was on the long side as well but matted to his face.  What got him was that they were both smiling. Deran wasn’t sure he’d smiled for a picture since then, but they both looked stoked.

Deran blinked at the image a few times before forcing himself to set Adrian’s alarm.  If it was only him, he wouldn’t bother. He’d had concussions before. However, he knew Adrian would tearing him a new one if he woke up eight hours from now and realized Deran had been out just as long.  First, he’d have a mild heart attack because Deran always did shit to worry him, and then he’d kick Deran’s ass.

“I worry about you too,” Deran muttered, placing the phone on the arm of the couch behind Adrian’s head.  

He didn’t attempt to change their position.  Adrian wasn’t exactly easy to move when he was passed out, and it wasn’t like he’d complain about Deran sleeping on him. Both of their backs were probably not going to be pleased with the position, but after the spill he’d taken and the traveling Adrian had done, their backs were fucked anyway.

Deran let his head rest on Adrian’s chest and allowed the exhausted to take him.  The last thing he remembered was the slow and steady beat of Adrian’s heart, keeping him grounded despite the spinning of the room. An anchor which had kept him from going adrift through even the worst storms.


End file.
